Nice Butts
by 14InAHeart
Summary: A sweet moment in which France tries to explain to Belarus how to best win over her brother and also explains the beauty of a nice butt. No pairing other than one-sided Belarus x Russia, just as is in canon. Other pairings may be hinted, all depending on your interpretation. One-shot. Rated T to be safe.


It was commonly known that France had quite a flirtatious way of interacting with the other nations. He had his way of casually and subtly hitting on them, half the time inadvertently.

Belarus' reactions to the occasional compliment or suggestive comment had always intrigued him the most. Some nations, such as China, would get flustered and scold him for being inappropriate, even when he wasn't. Some, such as America, would, depending on the situation, roll their eyes and wave it off or laugh it him for trying to be smooth. Some, such as England would get angry and try to start a fight. What they all had in common was that, in some way or another, they reacted. Belarus did not. She always took the man peculiarly literally.

It puzzled him. He didn't expect everyone to swoon at the wink of an eye, but how could they simply not react to his gentlemanly compliments?

That's why when he saw she was also early to the World Meeting room, as many nations who preffered to show up organized were, he happily took his chance to figure her out.

"Oh? It seems there's to be an angel joining us this meeting. Bonjour, Miss Braginski." As he approached the woman, he bowed ever so slightly and winked, keeping one eye fixed on her.  
"You have something in your eye?" There was not the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her voice, and she stayed focused on organizing the notes sprawled out con the table in front of her.

"No."

Her eyes flickered over to her brother Russia, who was busy talking to China across the room. France saw how her nose crinkled slightly, and how her eyelids stayed low, perhaps to hide emotion or perhaps because her brow was scrunched too. A hint of expression on a normally plain face. Well, there was France's first clue, but it didn't reveal much for what he was looking for.

"You like him, yes?"

"Of course I like him; he's my brother."

"No, I mean you _like_ him." He flamboyantly accented his speech to get his meaning across.

"I just said, of course I like him; he's my brother."

"That's not what I... Oh, nevermind that. You want his attention, right?"

"Yes. Why is this any of your business?"

"It's not, but you wouldn't turn down advice for your brother's sake, no?"

This got her full attention. She turned from the notes and looked up at him.

"Well," he started again, "you simply have to be more clear about your intentions. You can't just propose marraige right away; it'll scare him off. Start off by flirting with him a bit."

"Flirting?"

"Yes, flirting. Tell him he has a nice butt."

"A nice butt?"

"Yes."

"How could a butt be nice? Does it hold doors open for people? Does it shake your hand in greeting?"

"No! Look... ah, take my friend, England, here as an example." France suggested, gesturing towards the posterior of a nation walking past. "It is perfectly shaped, no? It's round and firm, fills his pants nicely. And it's the perfect size to fit m-"

"How is this significant to winning my brother over?" Belarus interrupted.

"If you tell him he has a nice butt, and you do it well, it should make him feel just a little bit more attracted to you."

"Why?"

"Well, wouldn't you feel good about yourself if I complimented your butt?"

"No."

"Well... ah... Let me show you." As England walked past again, France grabbed his shoulder, smiling mischieviously when he turned to face him.

"Yes, France?" England sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Nice butt."

Belarus looked on indifferently as England nearly strangled France, shouting curses at his childishness. "I thought my goal was to marry my brother, not be killed by him."

* * *

After the meeting, as the nations, frustrated at each other and at their lack of progress, filtered out of the room, Belarus obediently followed her brother. She carried multiple binders stuffed full of paper in her arms, also likely for her brother. As the meeting room door started to close in her face, she swiftly turned and pushed it open with her shoulder before leaning her behind against it to keep it open, letting multiple countries through. France, who now proudly sported a black eye, was one of them.

He patted her shoulder as he passed, "Nice butt."

"You too."


End file.
